When I found out I would be reviewing the new musical Miss Shakespeare, my thoughts went immediately to Virginia Woolf’s story “Shakespeare’s Sister” from A Room of One’s Own. Woolf imagines what it would have been like had Shakespeare had an equally talented sister named Judith who “was as adventurous, as imaginative, as agog to see the world as he was…Perhaps,” Woolf muses, Judith had “scribbled some pages up in an apple loft on the sly, but was careful to hide them or set fire to them.”

Tracey Power’s musical picks up right where Woolf left off over 84 years ago, though Power’s Judith finds a much happier ending than Woolf’s. Miss Shakespeare is the story of Shakespeare’s youngest daughter who refuses to play the part of the average housewife, choosing instead to travel to London, have affairs with men, and most importantly, write plays.

At first I was unsure of what new things the play would have to say about women’s roles in the creative world. After all, the play is set in Shakespeare’s time; beyond employing an all female cast it wasn’t immediately clear what road Power would take to speak to a modern audience. As the show went on however, it became increasingly obvious that even though Judith and her friends were dealing with a situation very much specific to their time, their fight for creative freedom is very much a relevant topic to modern women as well. At one point, Judith lashed out at her famous father, saying, “You write about us [women] like you know who we are.” My thoughts went immediately to the recent controversy surrounding Joss Whedon and his representation of women in his films; suddenly, I was grateful for playwright Tracey Power and the play’s other contributors and supporters.

There was much more to endear me to the play other than simply the novelty of seeing a whole troupe of female performers on stage. Miss Shakespeare is optimistic, charming, and most of all, fun, thanks to its exemplary cast.

Judith, played by Amanda Lisman, was perfectly endearing. I was won over early on by her performance of a song entirely about the fascinating powers of an actor’s ass, but Lisman was truly at her best when directing her witless companions.

Judith recruited what can only be described as a rag-tag group of misfits, including a pregnant woman, a bastard, and a married virgin. This is where the play really came together, transforming from a story about creative freedom of expression to one about female friendship and empowerment. The troupe’s renditions of the stories of Venus and Adonis and Pryamus and Thisbe rivaled those of Shakespeare’s own sorry group of players in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Characters Hannah Storley (Pippa Mackie) and Isabel Loxley (Tracey Power) provided big laughs with their wonderfully incompetent acting, while characters Margaret Moore (Erin Moon) and Katherine Rose (Medina Hanh) kept things grounded with a perfect balance of emotion and candour.

One of the most compelling parts of the story, though, was the relationship between Judith and her sister Susanna (Caroline Cave). Cave brought nuance, humour, and depth to her character. I loved the interplay between Judith and Susanna; my only wish is that I could have seen a bit more of it.

The songs were well written and kept the story from getting too preachy or sappy. The musical component achieved a perfect balance between being appropriately crass and beautiful, delivering laughs, yet still allowing for moments of sincerity.

The cast clearly didn’t need the help of any male actors, with Hahn, Mackie, and Moon each taking turns playing a single male character. Employing a rotating cast for this male character championed the importance of women and their relationships with each other in the play, rather than their relationships with men.That said, I loved Susinn McFarlen’s appearances as Shakespeare, which provided motivation for Judith’s character and delivered some well-received knocks at the Bard himself.

After seeing Miss Shakespeare, I was pleased to return the next night to see what the women could bring to their adaptation of Julius Caesar. Though the contrast between the two plays couldn’t be greater, the cast again proved themselves highly capable with their emotionally charged performance of J. Caesar.

Seeing the two plays back-to-back like this was made it feel as if Judith’s company of players from Miss Shakespeare had banded together once again to prove that female actors can not only carry a play, but make one.

I particularly appreciated the way the adaptation was handled, with all male pronouns switched to female equivalents. This change was simple and impactful, turning Caesar’s Rome into a matriarchy far more interesting than a traditional all-male power structure. Julius Caesar was an apt choice for a gender swap, allowing for a hard-hitting representation of female power in which women are freed from competing for male attention. The pronoun switch gave tired aphorisms from the original play, too often ungenerously interpreted, new meanings and depth.

As with Miss Shakespeare, the play was perfectly cast. Cave was especially notable in her role as Brutus; her scene with Portia (Erin Moon), was perhaps the most emotional and beautiful scene from either of the plays.

One detraction from J. Caesar‘s success, however, was the music. Considering that the songs from Miss Shakespeare had been some of the play’s highlights, I was dismayed to discover that most of the music for J. Caesar was electronic. The choice made sense thematically; the play required a grittier sound to match the tone of the play and the futuristic look of the costumes (those I did love – especially the matching knives that Brutus, Cassius, and Casca wore in their hair). The integration of a DJ into the performance—who remained visible in a loft-like area above the actors, lit by an ominous, red glow—was a brilliant choice; but while everything worked in theory, the execution was lacking. I was grateful for the moments of silence that allowed for intensity built off of emotion, rather than scenes in which the music was too aggressive for me to connect with what was happening. Actors’ voices were looped throughout the play, an element of the music I thought worked well; however, technical difficulties at the very end of the play drew me out of what was an otherwise rousing finish.

For fans of either Shakespeare or local theatre, both Miss Shakespeare and J. Caesar are not to be missed. Miss Shakespeare is perfect if you’re looking for laughs, while J. Caesar should please even the Shakespeare purists. The most rewarding option, of course, is to see both.

You can see Miss Shakespeare and J. Caesar at Performance Works until May 17 or at Kay Meek Centre from May 21-29. More info about the productions and other works by The Escape Artists can be found here.